[Hiatus]After the fall of Dumbledore, after the year that changed everything, Harry is ready to face his destiny. He will need the help of his friends, of his family, and most of all of the ones he cares for the deepest to survive. HPGW, RWHG

A
lightning bolt crashed across the sky, shortly followed by a loud
crack of thunder that signaled the oncoming deluge. Slowly at first,
rain began to fall from the heavens, eventually transforming into a
steady downpour. On a beaten gravel roadway a man in tattered robes
slowly walked with purpose to an unknown destination. Ignoring the
rain, he calmly kept his steady pace, only wavering to avoid rather
deep potholes that had quickly filled with muddy water.

He entered
a small hamlet in an isolated countryside. He paused a moment to
glance over the dillapitated buildings barely standing, most of them
constructed hastily out of local wood and stone that could be easily
salvaged from the nearby hillsides. At the end of the way was a small
inn and tavern, a half-broken sign swaying haggeredly in the wind.
The man took a glance backwards, as if waiting for someone, and then
pressed forward, headed towards the inn.

Glancing
up at the swaying sign, he read the name of the place. Dragonshead.
There would be no safer place for him right now, and truthfully no
safer place for the parcel that he carried. Confident that he had
chosen the right course of action, at least for now, Severus Snape
strode into the inn, the door remained open for a few seconds longer
than it should have, before slamming shut.

The inn
was a small place, with little more than a few wooden tables and
chairs strewn about, surrounding a small fireplace that was slowly
fading away into the night. Behind the bar stood a man cleaning a few
mugs. He slowly nodded to Severus, and motioned for him to come
closer.

"Evenin'
sir," the Cockney-eyed man said warmheartedly. "Are you here for
a room, we got plenty of 'em available for the night."

"Yes,
perhaps in a few minutes," Severus off-handedly replied. He kept a
strong eye out for anyone in the room, eyes darting this way and
that. "Has a woman come in here recently. She would be wearing all
black, blonde hair, wouldn't say much?"

"Come
to think of it, there was someone like that a bit earlier. Said 'er
name was Black or something like that. She got 'erself a room. Prolly
asleep I'd imagine." The barkeep contemplated this for a moment,
before going back to his glasses. He kept on talking, uncaring that
Severus had turned up the stairs in search of his intended companion.
"Nice lookin' one she was, a bit on the hagged side though..."

Severus
walked down the narrow hallway, swaying this way and that for the
right room. There were eight rooms lined up, with four on either side
of the hallway. The door was securely locked on three on the left
side, and there was no indication of any light coming from behind the
large wooden door. Down at the far end on the right, a door stood
slightly ajar, but was dark as night. Turning to the second door on
the right, which had a small amount of lantern light seeping through,
he pulled his wand out from his robes and took a deep breath. Slowly
he reached for the door handle, and found it unlocked. Hesitating but
for a moment, he opened the door and pointed his wand ahead.

The room
was empty.

Silently
cursing himself he walked into the room and pinched out the lantern.
He returned to the hallway, leaving the door open halfway. He walked
down a ways before stopping at the door at the far end on the left.
Not sensing anyone in the room, Severus nonetheless opened it with
his wand at the ready. Inside he found a ghostly white figure,
sitting on the ramshackled bed, staring outside at the ever-raging
storm with a solemn look etched across her face.

Severus
noted that in the months since he had last seen Narcissa Malfoy, her
once radiant beauty had slowly withered away to the spectre now lain
before him. He took a few moments to process what had become of her,
before alerting her to his presence.

"Narcissa."
The woman turned to face Severus, the bags under her eyes indicant of
the recent lack of sleep she had gotten. In her eyes he could see a
distant, yet hopeful, gleam of the future.

"Please Severus,"
she spoke in an even tone, "Tell me what happened at the school.
Your letters to me were too brief."

"Imagine
my surprise when you contacted me."

"I
have to know Severus. Is Draco alright? Has he been…"

Severus
took this moment to take the woman and give her a soft embrace.
Quickly, the facade of calm that had been present on Narcissa
Malfoy's face gave way to near utter hysterics. After several
minutes, Snape pulled back and looked her steadily in the eye.

"Draco
is fine. Voldemort was less than happy when he learned the
circumstances surrounding Professor Dumbledore's death, but he got
over it relatively quickly. I can't say that it's been easy
however; the Dark Lord has been harder on Draco than he has been on
the other students."

"Other
students? Severus…what is he doing?"

"He's preparing an
army Narcissa." This last revelation sent Narcissa's mind for a
shock. Severus took the opportunity to sit in the small leather chair
in the corner of the room. "A group of individuals comprised of
students from Hogwarts, Drumstrang and several other schools
throughout Europe is being trained by Augustus, with their
instruction overseen by the Dark Lord himself."

"Augustus?
Augustus Longshanks? I thought he was in Azkaban!"

"He
was. There was an attack on the prison a week ago and Augustus was
freed….along with your husband."

Narcissa
dropped at hearing this. She slowly stood up and headed closer to the
window. Staring out at nothing in particular, she took note of the
slowly dying storm, and forcefully tried to hide back the onslaught
of emotion that she wanted to let out.

"The
best thing for you to do," Severus finally said, "is stay in
hiding. The Dark Lord is none too pleased with the fact that you
forced me to do what I did...and while he has spared me some of his
wrath I cannot say he will hold you in the same regard."

"I'm
not going to be some coward," she said forcefully. "I'm going to
reunite with my son and we're going to start a new life. Away from
Voldemort. Away from Lucius. Away from everything."

"It's
not that simple. The Dark Lord is not going to give up on your son
very easily." Severus stood up and walked over to Narcissa, who
continued her vigil of staring outside. "'Cissa, you have to trust
me on this. Things are set in motion now that cannot be undone, and
the best thing we can do is simply let them play out."

"Easy
for you to say!" she suddenly exclaimed, catching him a bit off
guard. "You haven't had to give up every..." she trailed off as
she saw Snape actually show anger. It boiled up from out of him, and
he couldn't stop it from boiling out.

"I
HAVEN'T HAD TO GIVE UP EVERYTHING?!? Who had to watch as both of the
people that he cared for most in this world were cut down by
Voldemort? Who had to stand by and see Lily killed like a dog because
he couldn't get there in time!" He stopped short, catching his
breath, and trying to re-establish some semblance of calm.

"I'm
sorry Severus...I..."

"No.
I'm sorry. You're frustrated, I know. But for know...you'll just
have to deal with it."

Narcissa
nodded at this and slowly turned out of the room. She took a few
steps out of the doorway and turned back to Severus. "Please, tell
my son that I love him."

"I
will."

On that
note Narcissa lifted the hood of the jet black robe she had been
wearing and headed down the hallway towards the exit of the inn.
Snape sat in the room, lingering for a moment longer. The sound of
some footsteps entering the room and the door shutting alerted him
back to the present. In front of him, there was a sudden figure,
seemingly to appear out of thin air.

The young
man was a haggard figure, much like his mother. A fresh scar covered
his left eye, which was an even lighter shade of gray than his right
one. He was clad in makeshift Death Eater robes that were torn along
the seams and barely covered his pale skin. Without missing a beat,
the man through the invisibility cloak onto the bed and proceeded to
resume the position where Narcissa had been a few minutes prior. He
said nothing to Snape, who merely stared back at him.

"I'm
sorry you had to hear that Draco," Snape said, his voice never
wavering from its consistent tone. "And I'm sorry that you can't be
with your mother. If she were to see you now in this condition,
Merlin knows what she'd do."

Draco
merely kept a firm gaze out of the window as he saw his mother head
out into the returning storm. Snape walked over and placed a hand on
the younger Malfoy's shoulder for but a moment, before turning back
to the room. Removing his wand he transfigured the small chair into a
larger couch and pillow. "We'll sleep here tonight," he said
firmly.

"Who's
Lily?" Draco finally said, his gaze still not leaving the window.

"No
one you need to concern yourself with," Snape retorted, after
contemplating the question for a few moments. "Now get some sleep.
I have to put in an appearance with the Dark Lord tomorrow, you'll be
safe here for a few days yet. Hopefully by that time we'll have
received a letter from our benefactor instructing us on the future."

Draco
wished to know who the benefactor was that Snape kept mentioning, but
he simply let the subject rest for now. Taking a last look out of the
window he maintained an even keel, despite the solitary tear that
fell down his face in time with the falling rain. He turned, and
waited to confront sleep.

Elsewhere
in the wizarding world a lone figure had already been embraced in
sleep. A loud roar of a thunderclap later and he was up in a rush.

The figure
was clad solely in boxers, his deep blue eyes darting this way and
that. The pale moonlight and limited light from the street lamps
outside revealed the scars which darted across his body this way and
that. After a few moments to make sure that he was in fact just
startled from a rather pleasant dream, he took a deep sigh and
lowered the wand which had sprung to his grasp when he had awoken.

Grimacing
as he saw the time from the non-magical watch sitting on his
nightstand, he quickly deduced that sleep would not return anytime
soon. Sighing he outstretched his hand and a deep blue bathrobe
quickly came to him. Slipping it on he opened the door and headed
downstairs to his kitchen.

After
placing a kettle of hot water on the stove, the man grabbed a glass
and teabag from the counter overhead. He glanced out the window every
few seconds, and before long his gaze returned to the window over the
sink and noticed a curious thing sitting on the fence in his yard.
Lowering the heat on the kettle he walked over to the window and took
a closer look. There in the lamp light he could see the outline of a
tabby cat, curiously perched on the fence, staring straight at him.
After pondering this sight for a moment he smiled to himself and
opened the window.

"You
can come in if you like," the man said, the grin not leaving his
face. The cat surprisingly obliged and jumped from the fence onto the
ground. After climbing up a flight of stairs to the deck, it jumped
up onto the windowsill and then onto the kitchen counter. Idly, the
man scratched underneath the cat's chin, a gesture that the cat
didn't seem to appreciate.

"Oh
come now, you alway liked that when I did it before...Minerva." At
this notion the cat jumped to the floor and began to change shape.
The orange fur melted away to reveal emerald green robes and slightly
rosy flesh underneath. After a moment the shape of Minerva McGonagall
appeared where the cat had once been.

"Seriously
Demetrius," the woman said with a shake, "I don't have time for
your nonsense. And besides, that was a long time ago." There was a
hint of pleasure in the last bit as her voice tapered off, leaving
Demetrius to consider it. There momentary reunion was interrupted by
the loud whistle of a tea kettle.

"Well,
perfect timing. Care for a cup of tea? It's Earl Gray..."

"Yes,
thank you."

Demetrius
walked over and grabbed another glass and bag from the cabinet. He
poured the hot water into the two mugs and placed the bags in a
second later. Banishing the kettle to the sink to deal with later, he
headed towards the small sitting area table where McGonagall had
taken a seat.

"Sugar?"

"One
lump please."

Smiling
and shaking head head, Demetrius complied, and handed the cup to
Minerva. "After all these years Minerva," he said with a smile
still on his face, "you still haven't changed a thing about you."

"Perhaps
not this..." she trailed off as she took stock of the room. The
sitting room was connected to the larger living area, which actually
looked quite mugglelish all things considered save for the small pad
of parchment and quill on the oak desk and the grayish owl asleep in
a cage in the corner. There were twin bookcases on the far end of the
room, each filled with various books that had been enchanted to
appear as normal Muggle novels but to a magical eye would actually be
a rather impressive library of spells and tomes. "I'm sorry to
visit you at such a late hour," Minerva continued, turning away
from her inspection of the house, "but frankly we have a serious
problem."

"Yes
I read your last owl," Demetrius responded, regarding the witch in
front of him. Age had only improved her looks in his mind, where as
it had taken it's toll on him. Minerva too regarded the
shoulder-length brown hair that had a slight hint of gray along the
sides, and the rugged chin and goatee that gave him a roguish
appearance. Both regarded each other in this way for a few moments
before continuing their conversation.

"Then
you know what a problem we have. The governors are still debating now
and it's looking more and more likely that the school will be closed.
If the students are left to their own devices...they'll be easy
targets."

"I
agree." He concluded this simple statement by swirling the bag
around in his mug for a moment before continuing. "The question is
what do we do about it?"

"Well...several
families, the Weasleys for example, are actively campaigning to keep
the school open. The other professors and myself are going door to
door trying to convince parents that Hogwarts is the safest place for
their children...but we aren't making much headway..." she trailed
off before continuing, trying to formulate this next thought
precisely. Though Demetrius had an inkling what she would ask, he
kept to himself.

"Demetrius,
that's partially why I'm here. It would greatly help my position if I
could say that the great Demetrius Longshanks was going to be
returning to Hogwarts and teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts."
Demetrius chuckled as he stood up and headed towards the kitchen.

"I
gave that job up years ago," Demetrius said without pause, "What's
changed other than having Voldemort back that would make me change my
mind?"

Minerva
followed Demetrius into the kitchen, where he was attentively washing
out the kettle he had used earlier. "Demetrius, people are going to
die if Hogwarts doesn't reopen..."

"Seems
likely to me people are going to die anyway."

"Yes
but at least at Hogwarts they'd have a chance. The ministry is going
to be stationing Aurors at the castle at all hours of the day."

"If
Voldemort attacks in force on the castle, you won't hold it. You
might hold out, even make him work at it, but if the man can break
into Azkaban without difficulty, Hogwarts castle will fall just as
easily." He paused a moment before continuing, "The only chance
you really have is if you had more forces..."

"Which
is exactly why we need you. You're the foremost expert on wizard's
duels in the country, probably throughout Europe. Need I go into your
many accomplishments as former Deputy Head of the Auror Department
too?"

"That
won't be necessary," Demetrius replied, heading back for the
sitting area. Instead of taking a chair he contemplated the area
outside, where the storm had completely passed, and considered the
offer placed before him. "If I accept, their would be certain
conditions."

"I
can be as accommodating as possible."

"Good...firstly
I'd be supplying the text books. Nothing against you're vaunted
Hogwarts staff and governors, but you need books for the younger
years that actually teach them something. Secondly I'll teach the
class my way. I promise you if there's something that would make you
cringe or the Ministry would frown upon with lifetime passes to
Azkaban, then I'll get your approval first."

"Those
sound reasonable..."

"I'm
not finished. Finally, I'll require a list of every sixth and seventh
year student that will be attending as soon as you can have it
available."

"What
for?"

"I'll
be creating a special section of Defense. Let's face it, if Voldemort
attacks in force you're going to need all the help you can get..."

"I'm
not going to use the students as my own personal army!"

"I'm
not asking you to. It's simply as a defense of last resort to protect
the castle should the aurors and whatever other reinforcements we can
dig up fail. This term is non-negotiable Minerva, take it or leave
it." Minerva contemplated this but for a moment before her reply.

"Very
well. I will send an owl to the professors tomorrow telling them
about our newest teacher." She paused and went back to the living
area. There on the wall, something she had not noticed before, sat a
few pictures that obviously were of a wizarding origin. A few
pictures of herself and Longshanks she ignored, it was the center
photo of one Albus Dumbledore, there posing with a much younger
Demetrius Longshanks as he received his Order of Merlin award, that
caught her eye and brought a tear.

"Frankly
we're lost without Professor Dumbledore. We still are acting, but
there's less of an organization to it. We're running around like a
bunch of birds with our heads cut off." She paused a moment before
turning back to Demetrius, "Perhaps you could..."

"No,"
he flat out responded. "There's only one person who can lead the
Order right now. Only one person uniquely qualified to do so, and it
certainly isn't me.

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